


Malinconia

by flaminpumpkin



Series: OsaSuna Week [7]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (sakuatsu mentioned), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Awkward Conversations, Break Up, Day 2, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Kind of a Happy Ending, Konbini, M/M, Not Beta Read, SunaOsaWeek, first/last
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:09:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26970427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaminpumpkin/pseuds/flaminpumpkin
Summary: Malinconia (Italian): melancholyHe remembered, eyes staring fondly at the eyeliner he had just put back on the rack, how their relationship had taken a new turn in this same aisle he was standing in, at the start of their third and last year of high school.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: OsaSuna Week [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770460
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35
Collections: SunaOsa Week 2020





	Malinconia

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my contribution for SunaOsa Week Day 2!  
> Prompts 1&2: First/Last, Konbini.
> 
> I don't really know if anyone is going to pick up on it but I still want to say it: the fact that Osamu's name isn't mentioned during the transitions and Suna being referred as "Suna" in the first memory and "Rin" in the second were done on purpose, so please, don't come for my neck. 
> 
> I apologize in advance for any mischaracterization or spelling/grammar mistakes.
> 
> Enjoy!

Aisle 11: one cabbage, carrots, oranges, tomatoes.

Aisle 9: canned peaches.

Aisle 6: one bag of rice flour, kanten powder, one bag of sugar.

Aisle 4: rice vinegar, sesame oil, soy sauce, mirin, one bag of miso.

Aisle 1: shampoo, conditioner, hair wax, eyeliner.

He stalled.

A sigh.

His hand reached down into his basket, grabbed the eyeliner and put it back on the rack.

Aisle 1: shampoo, conditioner, hair wax, ~~eyeliner~~.

It had been five years. Five years since he had left. And yet his hand still reached for the black eyeliner between mascaras and brow pencils. Always. It was a reflex, one he had honed over years of buying groceries and coming home to him – outside of volleyball season at least, when he hadn’t needed to be in Tokyo. Rin could have afforded some fancier brand but he had somehow always come back to this peculiar one.

Sentimentalism, probably. Just like how he kept coming to this one konbini, simply because it was the one he and Rin would stop by after school on their way back home when there was one way closer to his parents’ home he could have gone to when his mother had asked him to buy her some groceries.

There was something about the way he didn’t even need to look to get what he wanted, about how he knew the aisles and organization of the shelves by heart. There was something about how every single one of them was linked to memories of Rin and him, constantly guiding his steps back to this konbini.

He remembered how, once, they had met there on a late night stroll, both of them apparently craving something sweet and cool to eat to deal with the suffocating mid-summer air. He had been contemplating for a good ten minutes what to buy, staring without looking inside the freezer at the far back of the konbini when he had felt a presence next to him. A glance had been enough to realize it had been Rin, with the same kind of distant look in his eyes, the empty plastic package of a chuppet ice pop dangling from thin, unexpressive lips. They had both been way too out of it because of the heat and tiredness to wrap their minds around how ridiculous they had looked, only laughing about it the day after when they had met to go to the beach.

He remembered with a little quirk of his lips the humongous number of times the brunette had had to drag him away from the impressive fridge full of onigiri they had in aisle number 10, often calling him a bottomless pit and telling him he would get fat if he kept eating that much.

He remembered the endless banter about which brand of potato chips to buy for their movie night in aisle number 8, Rin wanting to buy some foreign brand while he kept preaching for classic Calbee potato chips. He remembered trying to educate him on how to choose good vegetables and fruits in aisle 11, catching his friend daydreaming rather than listening to him.

He remembered, eyes staring fondly at the eyeliner he had just put back on the rack, how their relationship had taken a new turn in this same aisle he was standing in, at the start of their third and last year of high school.

* * *

Osamu poked his head in one aisle after the other in search of Suna.

His friend had decided to wander off and leave him alone after one too many failed attempt of dragging him away from the onigiri rack, mumbling something about his “fat ass” not being able to fit in his jeans anymore. Which wasn’t true, his jeans still fitted him perfectly. But, yeah, maybe he shouldn’t have taken twenty minutes to choose.

He finally found him in aisle number 1, the toiletry aisle.

Suna was standing there, slouching as usual, hands in his pocket, as usual. Staring at the makeup part of the aisle with knitted brows, as usual.

Wait. No. Scratch that.

That was unusual. Suna never spent more time than necessary choosing his eyeliner, picking the one he always brought and call it a day. So Osamu trudged towards him, one hand in his pants pocket, the other one easily wrapping around the two onigiris he had chosen. Suna didn’t even acknowledge him when he came to a stop beside him, brows furrowing further as he sighed, frustrated.

“What’s the holdup?”

His friend sighed again, annoyed, but he knew it wasn’t directed at him.

“I want to try some colorful eyeliner. I saw a brand online that actually have a few that look decent like maroon or gold. Or a dark blue.”

Osamu hummed.

“So?”

That earned him an exasperated groan. Directed at him this time.

“Well, if I buy one of them I won’t have enough money to buy some plain black. And the one I have at home is almost empty,” Suna explained, actually taking one eyeliner from the rack, looking at it hesitantly. “ _So_ , I don’t want to end with no black eyeliner if the colored ones make me look like a clown.”

Osamu huffed. Not because of the eventuality of his friend looking ludicrous but more because it was impossible for him to imagine a situation where Suna wouldn’t look absolutely gorgeous with some dark red eyeliner or gold or whatever color he decided to put on his eyelids. Suna was just made for it, in his opinion. But maybe _his_ opinion was biased given the nature of his true feelings for the brunette, feelings he would keep a secret for as long as he would live.

Unfortunately, this little personal oath to himself didn’t keep him from running his mouth, reminding him of a certain blond twin.

“You could never look like a clown.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“Why? Because I’m already one?” Suna asked sarcastically, turning his head to look him, probably with narrowed eyes. Osamu was sure of it. He knew Suna by heart.

“Nah, ‘cause yer too pretty for that.”

He suddenly realized the words that had left his mouth and stiffened, all trace of momentary cockiness from before evaporating as he kept his eyes trained forward, way too aware of Suna’s body standing close to his, the brunette staring at him incredulously. He tried to get away, tried to escape the inevitable awkward aftermath of telling his best friend he was pretty but cold fingers wrapping around his wrist kept him from doing so.

“Samu, come on. Don’t be like that.”

Suna’s tone actually made him consider turning around. His voice was soft, no trace of teasing, something so out of place for his ever sarcastic, mocking friend.

He turned around slowly, barely meeting Suna’s greenish, prying eyes.

“You think I’m pretty?”

His voice was too soft, too subdued. It wasn’t anything like his friend. Suna wasn’t sheepish or shy or self-conscious.

Osamu was panicking, his brain too occupied trying to process this weird, unknown side of Suna to actually make any kind of cohesive, coherent thoughts so he simply blurted out whatever was on his mind.

“I think ya would actually look gorgeous even if you decided to wear neon green eyeliner so yeah, I think yer pretty.”

Suna snorted, graceless but still quiet, his fingers tightening around Osamu’s wrist as he shuffled closer, pushing his face into the silver head’s personal space, greenish eyes roaming all over his face, searching. Osamu felt naked under that stare, completely unable to hide anything. Neither his racing heart nor his quickening breath or even his true feelings. He felt bare under Suna’s scrutiny. And he almost didn’t mind if it wasn’t for the potentially disastrous consequences of his best friend finding out about his more than friendly feelings for him. But Suna didn’t let up, not for a single second, and, defiantly, Osamu held his gaze, ready to bullshit his way out of it. Although he wouldn’t have to.

Seeming to find what he was searching for, the corner of Suna’s lips quirked up in the tiniest, most genuine smile Osamu had ever seen gracing his features.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Miya,” he drawled, his usual teasing tone back.

Osamu sputtered, not knowing if he should laugh at the absurdity of Suna’s words or blush because of the compliment. Probably both.

He did both anyway, an airy laugh escaping him as he felt blood rush to his face, heat spreading across his nose and cheeks.

“So what should we do, now? Kiss and then saunter away in the sunset hand in hand.”

The brunette snickered, practically hiding his face in Osamu’s shoulder as he did.

“Well. I don’t know about the second part but the kissing part can be arranged.”

Osamu choked on his own spit for the second time in less than five minutes, staring with wide eyes at his friend while Suna simply smiled at him, that coy little thing the teen had learned to be wary of – and secretly loved – because it only ever meant trouble. Mostly for him.

But this time… Maybe this time, he wanted it. The trouble, the thrill of excitement. Because what he had in mind – and what Suna seemed to have in mind too – could definitely get them in trouble with some people.

They didn’t care though. They didn’t think, Osamu simply leaning up a bit to close the space between them, Suna sighing, eyelids fluttering. It was just a press of their mouths, their lips slotting together awkwardly, the two teenage boys not quite in sync. Osamu thought absentmindedly how Suna tasted like that cola chap-stick he had been using recently as he felt the faint aroma of it hitting his taste buds. Sweet, artificial. _Perfect._

Silence surrounded them as they stayed there for a few seconds, kissing, the only sound around them being the quiet buzz of the harsh white neon above them. Their kiss wasn’t extraordinary per say. It was awkward, slightly uncomfortable because they were standing shoulder to shoulder, craning their necks to reach the other. A clumsy attempt of reproducing what they had seen so many times on TV. But for them, it was good. It was good because it carried words they were yet too afraid to say, not wanting to disrupt that burgeoning feeling between them.

They both laughed silently at their silliness as they pulled away, Suna lightly nudging his shoulder with his own, head turning away probably to hide his blush from Osamu despite knowing full well it wouldn’t work since his ears always turned bright red when he was embarrassed. Osamu didn’t mention it though, choosing to watch silently as the brunette grabbed the black eyeliner from the rack before walking around him, towards the checkout. He noticed with a satisfied little grin that his friend tried desperately to hide his raging blush, shoulders up to his ears.

It was funny to see Suna being embarrassed for once.

* * *

That had been their first kiss. In retrospect, it had been quite clumsy, if not a bit risky given the fact that they had been kissing in a public place and two boys kissing wasn’t exactly something viewed positively in this country.

A deep sigh escaped his lips, sounding more defeated than he had expected. Those were long gone times.

“Osamu-kun?”

He snapped out of his thoughts, head turning towards the voice, eyes wide, surprised.

An old woman stood at the end of the aisle, watching him carefully, worry evident her jet black eyes. Her hair was grey, her back arched under the weight of years working in this konbini, her gentle features something that never failed to make him feel a little better. She had been working here for as long as he could remember, always welcoming Atsumu and him – and later Suna and him – with a bright smile, asking how they were, how school was. She was almost like a grandmother to him.

“Ono-san. Good evening.”

“You look sad, honey.”

He gave her a weak smile, feeling too tired to pretend, and nodded as he moved to stand beside her. Extending her small, wrinkled hand, she grabbed his, giving it a short reassuring squeeze before letting go, walking away towards the register. With everything his mother had asked him to buy and the few items for himself already in his basket, he followed her but not without a final glance above his shoulder, towards the makeup rack of aisle number 1.

He could almost see himself and Suna standing there, talking to each other in hushed voices, kissing as well as they could in their weird positions. _Dumb teenagers_ , he thought with a shake of his head, melancholic little smile stretching his lips. He tried as best as he could to turn it into something warmer and less depressed as he faced Ono-san again, emptying his basket, to no avail. She kept her eyes trained on him as they made small talk and he paid, visibly worried but he ignored it. For some reason, tonight of all night, he didn’t want to think.

Exiting the store with one last smile for Ono-san, he wished her a good evening and stepped outside in the humid night air.

It had rained all day, luckily stopping when he had finally had enough of waiting in his parent’s house with Atsumu talking his ears off about becoming captain of the Black Jackals and had decided to leave. Fortunately, Sakusa had been there to bring him down a few notches with a couple of sarcastic quips here and there. Those two were a match made in heaven. Or in hell, depending on how many drinks Sakusa had. But it had been good to get away from that.

Don’t get him wrong, he was happy for his twin. Seeing him smile genuinely all the time, happy, loved. It made his heart swell with pride. But also ache with a strange kind of melancholic envy he didn’t know what to make of.

He looked down, ashamed of this jealous feeling sitting in his guts, eyes landing on a puddle that had formed on the road, right in front of the sidewalk. He watched, bemused, as the bright, obnoxious pink neon of the front of the konbini reflected on its still surface before being disturbed by a single droplet falling from the lamppost, sending the reflection wavering and, with it, bringing back another memory, this one a lot less pleasant than the one before.

* * *

They were silently going through each aisle, Suna a few steps behind him. No bickering, no candies mysteriously materializing in their basket. Nothing. They went through aisle after aisle, Osamu picking things they needed back at their apartment in Osaka because he didn’t want to go in the morning before work the next day so he had elected to stop by the konbini on their way back from his parents’ house.

The entire afternoon had been horrible, trying desperately to avoid the subject with his parents until his brother, of all people, had brought it on the table.

Rin was leaving in a week. And not for Tokyo this time.

If he had been leaving to go back to Tokyo and the EJP Raijin like any other time, he could have dealt. He had been dealing for years now, ever since they were eighteen. The distance wasn’t as gigantic as their eighteen years old mind had thought and a flourishing business had allowed Osamu to travel to the capital city a few times during the past couple of years.

But he doubted he could handle it when his boyfriend would be on the other side of the world, oceans and continents apart. And he doubted Rin could either, if the way he had been acting ever since he had signed his contract was anything to go by.

So now they both knew what was coming. It was inevitable, no matter how hard it would be.

Even Ono-san seemed to feel it, giving them both worried looks as Osamu paid in silence for their groceries.

It wasn’t until they were out in the early evening air, the sky quickly darkening and shadows spreading around them that they acknowledged it, both coming a halt on the sidewalk, shoulder to shoulder, hands brushing.

“I think we should… Stop. This. What we have, we can’t-”

A crack in his voice. A long pause. Osamu didn’t say anything. He wanted to let Rin finish.

“We can’t keep this up. I know we’ve been. For years. But this is different. And I don’t want you to keep waiting for me. I don’t want to keep you from finding happiness just because I can’t let go of you. I don’t want to be selfish. Not with you. Not again.”

But Osamu wanted him to be selfish. He wanted to tell Rin he wasn’t keeping him from finding happiness, that what they had was what had brought him happiness all these years, that this solid balance they had managed to find was more than enough. But Osamu knew he was right. England wasn’t Tokyo.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” he admitted with a sigh, his voice small, defeated, weak to his own ears. “I’ve seen it comin’ for a while now. I know ya,”

His fingers tightened around the bag handle until his knuckles turned white before relaxing completely, figuratively resolving himself to let go. He didn’t want to put up a fight, to make it difficult for them to say goodbye. So instead he sighed and tried to sound as detached as he could when he spoke next.

“I take it yer not coming back with me.”

Rin gave him a weak smile as Osamu turned to him, meeting his gaze. It was strained. Pained.

“I think we both know it’s not a good idea.”

Osamu nodded, adverting his eyes, lowering his head, jaw clenching and teeth gritting, trying desperately not to show anything, wanting to be back to his sullen teenage self for once in his goddamn life. He exhaled a trembling breath, ready to turn around and go so his boyfriend-

 _Ex_ -boyfriend-

Couldn’t see his tears, his heart breaking in a million pieces. But a pair of hands cupped his face, delicately, tenderly, forcing his head back up so his eyes would meet Rin’s. Stormy grey on eerie green. He loved these eyes, so much. Always had and always would. He loved everything about the man in front of him. But it was time to let him go. For both of their sakes. No matter how hard and painful it was.

Gentle thumbs stroked his cheeks as cold lips pressed against his forehead, their touch like a branding iron on his skin nonetheless. When their gazes met again, Osamu could see all the hurt in these eyes, all the tears Rin was struggling to contain. So he wasn’t surprised when he opened his mouth, one last request obvious on the tip of his tongue.

“Osamu, can I-”

“Yes.”

He wasn’t so much as allowing Rin to do it as he was pleading him to do so. And Rin, who had always been able to read him like an open book, who had never faltered to take what he wanted when he was granted it, bowed his head down and sealed their lips in a tender kiss. They were outside, anyone could see them but it didn’t matter. _Let them see_ , they both seemed to say as they clung onto each other, desperate, drowning themselves into each other’s warmth and love one last time.

Rin’s hands cupping his face were Osamu’s anchor as he hold with all his might onto the lapel of the other man’s coat with his free hand, fingers trembling. He wished he could stop the course of time, that they could stay like this forever, wrapped in each other’s presence. But they had to let go. And he knew he was the one who needed to pull away and put an end to this before they fell back into each other, unable to leave.

So he leaned back, out of reach, when Rin pulled away to breath.

“We should go now.”

Rin stared at him and Osamu held it, trying to keep his face schooled under the other man’s scrutiny. Greenish eyes roamed over his features, as if to take him in one last time, then the brunette brought his face close to him one last time, to kiss his forehead.

And then he let go, arms falling limply by his sides as he took a step back.

“I’ll see you around?”

The hopeful little lilt of Rin’s voice… Osamu couldn’t handle it. He needed to go before all his walls broke down and he was left a sobbing mess on the cold hard pavement.

“Yeah. Good night, Rin,” he whispered, voice wavering and finally cracking as he turned around and hastily walked away, letting the tears flow freely.

* * *

It was ironic really, he thought as his eyes slid away from the neon’s reflection in the water to rest somewhere else on the road. How they’d had their first and last kiss in this peculiar place. A konbini. Not the most romantic or prone to displays of affection but… It had been a safe place for them. For years. Even on the day they had broken up. Somehow it had been reassuring to be in a place they both knew by heart. It had given them a sense of familiarity they had needed at that one moment.

He was almost grateful for it because in some sense, this familiarity had allowed him to heal a bit in the course of the years. Coming back here, within these walls, these shelves neatly organized that were soaked in memories of them. Somehow it had felt like he was here.

“Pathetic much?” he asked the night with a humorless chuckle, head falling back to stare at the dark sky. “Why do I still miss him so much?”

That’s when he heard it. That voice. He recognized it. Every inflexion, every tone. And just like that, a weight that had seemed to have taken residence on his chest for the past five years disappeared. With just a few words. A single snarky remark in a teasing tone.

“Because you’re a masochist, Osamu. That’s why.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
